


Bury Me In Willow

by ladyamesindy



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-19 08:05:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyamesindy/pseuds/ladyamesindy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war is over.  The Reapers have been defeated.  But what is the fate of Commander Shepard?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bury Me In Willow

**Author's Note:**

> This story was totally and completely inspired by the Asia song "Bury Me In Willow." I've tried to be faithful to both the story and the song as much as possible. Also, you may want to have a box of kleenex on hand ...

 

_I'll go whichever way the winds blow,_

_It's hard to swim against the tide,_

_The willow bends in a tornado,_

_The oak will shatter as it dies._

_Save me, and give me the peace to surrender at last._

_When I'm gone do this thing for me,_

_For this is my final day, you know I would not joke,_

_So bury me in willow, not in oak._

_Give me no standard, no eulogy,_

_No red, white and blue, no sceptre and no cloak,_

_Just bury me in willow, not in oak._

 

~ ~ ~

 

“Everybody freeze!”

His words echoed around them, warbling off to fade in the distance, his hand held up as if to physically halt the next person who so much as breathed.  But everyone complied with his request.  Not a sound could be heard around them, save the occasional creaks and groans of rubble, shifting restlessly in the dead of space.  

After what seemed like ages, his head turned.  He’d heard it again.  Moving quickly, he signaled his companions to follow. _Patience_ , he reminded himself.   _Control._  He had to be careful here.  The wrong move could suddenly turn this rescue mission into something much less positive.  

His patience finally paid off.  It was difficult to differentiate between some of the blackened, charred rubble and the armor she wore, but a splash of red, the jangle of her dog tags, the harsh sound of lungs trying desperately to breathe in air ....

“Shepard!”

Kaidan dropped to his knees beside her, reaching for her hand immediately.  As he looked for other signs of life, the others began carefully removing the rubble that surrounded and covered her.  His medical training instincts kicking in, Kaidan did what he could to stabilize her.  “Hang in there, Shepard,” he murmured several times as he worked.  At one point, he could have shouted for joy when he felt her hand tighten just incrementally for a few brief moments around his.

It seemed to take ages to clear the rubble, but within an hour they had her strapped onto a backboard and were carrying her back to the shuttle.  From there, it was a matter of getting back to the _Normandy_ so Dr. Chakwas could begin to work her magic.

While the doctor worked, Kaidan changed out of his armor, trading it for his standard Alliance issued BDUs.  A quick trip to the war room and he was in touch with Hackett who, after outwardly admonishing him for disobeying the orders to evacuate the system, promised to make arrangements for Shepard’s care groundside.  Only after that did Kaidan head back down to the medical bay.  He found the others seated nearby in the mess, but they were quiet.  No talking, eyes locked onto the med bay and the shuttered windows that hid all the happenings inside from view.  Kaidan thought about entering, about using his battlefield medical skills as his key to helping, but in the end, he took a seat beside the rest and waited.

They all lost track of time.  Eventually, though, someone prepared food, realizing that they had to at least attempt to keep things as usual or they would end up as patients themselves.  Hours later, as Kaidan was rising to get yet another cup of coffee, he heard the door whoosh open behind him.  Being the only one still awake just then, he turned to face the doctor and her assistants as they exited.  “She wants to see you briefly, Major,” Chakwas told him.  As he walked by her, she added quietly, “Just keep it brief.”

Kaidan stiffened and gave her a sharp look.  “That bad?”  He read the look in her eyes, the one he’d hoped he’d never have to see.  

“We’ve done all we can.  The rest is up to her, but I suspect she won’t make it through the night,” she sighed wearily.

Kaidan nodded and swallowed back his reaction.  The doctor was good at what she did.  Many, many times over the past almost four years, she’d patched them all back up at one point or another.  Plus, she had the benefit of having been with Shepard during her Cerberus phase, learning how to treat her cybernetics, bone and skin weaves and other assorted bits and parts that the Illusive Man had used to bring Shepard back from the dead.  If anyone knew how to fix the woman up, it was Chakwas.

He entered the dimly lit room to find Shepard on the far side, partially blocked by a curtain for privacy.  He could hear the steady beeps of machinery indicating that for the moment at least, all was well.  As he stepped up beside her, he pulled over a nearby chair so he could sit.  Taking her bandaged hand gently in his, he lifted it and pressed his lips to the backs of her fingers, the only area not covered in bandages.  He was rewarded when she sighed softly, fingers flexing minutely, eyes fluttering open.  Giving her the best smile he could manage, he whispered in a slight wavering voice, “Hey, Shepard.”

“Kaidan ....”

He felt fear at just how weak her voice sounded, emphasized by a slightly increased pitch in the monitor regulating her breathing, but he refused to let her see it.  “Hush,” he told her.  He kept his hand around hers, but lowered it to the bed once more.  “Just lie still and rest.”

She shook her head once, sharply, and he heard another monitor go off.  “No,” she rasped.  “Need ... promise ... please ....”

Kaidan sighed and nodded.  She was too stubborn by half.  He could see that she was determined to have this conversation, consequences be damned.  Leaning forward, he pushed some of her dark waves back from her eyes.  “I’m listening,” he promised.  

She took a moment, focusing on her breathing.  He could tell the moment she was ready to continue, her eyes meeting his, a tilting of the corners of her lips into a semblance of a pained smile.  “Bury me ... in willow,” she whispered.  

Kaidan grew rather alarmed by the finality of her request.  “Now, Shepard,” he chastised gently, “you’ve a long time before we’ll need to worry about that.”

Her eyes closed, her smile tilted a bit more upwards, but the sadness was still there.  “Promise ....”

He fought back panic.  “I promise,” he told her, hoping that the quick reassurance would help.  “But,” he added, “that won’t be for a long while yet, if only so you can explain to me just what you mean ....”

 

~ ~ ~

 

_A life of conflict was unending,_

_Collision, damage, disarray._

_So blind, intolerant, unbending,_

_Just let me die a different way._

_Free me, and give me the peace to surrender at last._

_When I'm gone, do this thing for me,_

_For this is my final day, and you know I would not joke,_

_So bury me in willow, not in oak._

_Give me no standard, no eulogy,_

_No red, white and blue, no sceptre and no cloak,_

_Just bury me in willow, not in oak._

 

~ ~ ~

 

“How are you feeling?”

Kaidan knelt beside her chair, adjusting the blanket before tucking it securely around her legs.  He felt hopeful as she smiled softly at him.  Her hand lifted to lay upon his for a moment.  Though she was still weak all these months and years later, her skin nearly translucent so that you could practically see the bones beneath, she _was_ getting better.  Slowly but surely.  “Better now,” she assured him.

Kaidan returned the smile, hand reaching out to caress her cheek.  Dr. Chakwas had told him long after that last battle that Shepard should have died that night.  Nearly had as she’d been operated on.  The fact that she was still living, that she’d found some reason to continue on, was a testament to her willpower.  “What kept her alive after Mindoir and Akuze, what helped her to come back after Alchera,” the doctor had explained to him, “most certainly was what kept her alive after the Citadel.  She has an inner strength, an ability to bend with whatever comes her way, that helps her defeat the odds.”  But just how long she would last, Chakwas had added, was uncertain.  A strong will to live was all and good, but if the body was intent upon giving out, then nothing would save it.  

 _Better now._  That was definitely an improvement, and he was certainly glad of it.  Each day, she seemed to improve a little.  Her _will_ to live was certainly still there despite the length of time this particular battle was taking, as evidenced by her continued survival.  Occasionally, he would see sparks of the ‘old’ Shepard, too, particularly when her temper flared.  Yet, he’d not have had her any other way.  Their time together might be limited, but it _would_ be theirs at least.  Partners in this last, ever looming battle.  During the war, he’d promised he’d have her back, and she was allowing him to continue to keep that promise now.

They’d retired to the orchard, after a long stint in the hospital followed by an even longer one in rehab, but to Kaidan’s way of thinking, being at the orchard had brought the most improvement.  Each day, after the work had been completed, he’d return home and they would spend time together.  Lately, that had involved periodic walks, gradually growing in length.  Speaking of ....  “Ready for our walk?” he asked.  They never went too far from the main house, but it was a nice change of pace for her after a long day of being indoors and working on physical therapy.

She lifted her hand to his and nodded.  “I would like that,” she agreed as he assisted her to her feet.  Side by side, he led her away from the house.  This time, he had a new destination in mind, something she clearly picked up on immediately.  “Where to this time?” she asked.

Side by side they walked, his arm around her waist for support, his strides shortened to match her own.  It would be a long time if ever that she got back to her prior, fighting form, but Kaidan didn’t mind.  “A special place,” he promised.  “It’s not far.”

True to his word, it wasn’t.  Out behind the work shed, up a small incline.  They neared the top of the small hill and he glanced over at her, noting the soft smile.  He’d guessed right, apparently.  

“Kaidan,” she breathed softly, her arm leaving his as she reached out to touch the trunk of the tree standing before them.

“I thought you might like it,” he admitted, his hands sliding into pockets as he observed her.  “Something you told me a while back.”  Leaning heavily against the tree, he watched as she turned slowly, carefully and looked over at him, a question in her eyes.  “‘Bury me in willow,’” he told her, repeating the words she’d spoken so long before.

He saw the confusion fade, a small nod of understanding.  “Yes.”

Moving beside her again, he assisted her to sit on the ground beneath the tree.  Settling beside her, he asked, “Can you tell me why?”

She sighed softly and leaned towards him.  Moving quickly, he placed an arm around her shoulder.  “It’s something tied in with my family,” she explained.  “My grandfather told me once.  His father and grandfather told him.”  Kaidan nodded.  He watched her point upwards, into the branches of the tree.  “See how they bend?  How the weight of the branches moves, but don’t break?”  Kaidan nodded again.  “My grandfather told me once that in storms, especially those high wind storms like they used to get back on Earth that would shatter and destroy homes and trees, a willow would remain standing tall and strong because it moves _with_ the wind instead of standing rigid against it.”

Kaidan kept his eyes upon the branches above them, noting how they swayed gently in the breeze.  Arm tightening around her, he murmured, “Sort of reminds me of a certain Commander I know.”

Shepard’s laugh was soft and floated around him.  “Maybe that’s why I had to tell you then,” she replied.  Then sobering, she continued, “My time is coming, Kaidan.  Maybe not today or tomorrow, but it will come.”

Kaidan’s eyes closed, he shook his head in denial.  “Not for a long while yet, Shepard,” he insisted, his hand finding hers and lacing their fingers together.  

“But -”

Sighing in resignation, he opened his eyes again and found hers.  “When it does … I will keep my promise.”

Shepard’s smile returned.  “Thank you.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

_When I'm gone do this thing for me,_

_For this is my final day, you know I would not joke,_

_So bury me in willow, not in oak._

_Give me no standard, no eulogy,_

_No red, white and blue, no sceptre and no cloak,_

_Just bury me in willow, not in oak._

_Free me, 'n' give me the beautiful silence at last._

 

~ ~ ~

 

At the end of a long day’s work, he returned to the old frame house, grabbed his heavier coat to ward off the evening chill, and began the familiar trek up to the old willow.  These days it was a trek, each footfall seeming to take longer.  Each step heavier with the passage of time.  But this was a ritual that he would not miss for all the credits in the galaxy.  It was their time together.  Even after all these years.  The aches and pains of age were catching up, of course.  As the days passed, he became more and more tired, no amount of rest seemed to help that.  However, he could still walk without additional assistance.  Well, maybe in winter he’d use one of his father’s old walking sticks, but that was just to keep from ending up face first in the snow.  God only knew how she would react to _that_.

But this evening, the early autumn sun was still barely above the mountaintops and there was a hint of a late season storm in the air.  He ignored it all.  He had a promise to keep, and keep it he would, come what may.  After all, she would be watching for him.

His arrival went nearly unnoticed by all but the boughs of the tree that shifted gently in the evening breeze.  When one came close enough, almost as if greeting a familiar friend, he reached out and took it in hand, holding it for a long moment before releasing it and moving carefully to sit beside the trunk.  Once settled, he took a deep breath, held it for a moment, his face turning towards the fall of the sun as the last of the warmth shone on his face, and then exhaled slowly.  Only then did he turn to look at her.

“The harvest is in,” he told her quietly.  “We finished today.  Larger than ever since the end of the war.  Can you believe it?”  He sighed.  “Wish you could go out there to see it with me.”

_This is where I belong, you know that.  You know me better than anyone._

Kaidan chuckled.  “That I do,” he agreed.  

_You’ve been working so hard.  You need to rest soon._

He smiled.  “Still worrying about me?” he countered.  

_Always.  I love you, Kaidan._

The smile widened just a bit at that.  “As I do you, Shepard.  Always.”

The breeze picked up again, rustling through the branches, ruffling through hair now more grey than black before brushing lightly across his cheek.  That made him smile just a bit.  It felt almost like a kiss.   _Her_ kiss ….

_Ever the romantic, eh Kaidan?_

“Heh,” he huffed.  “Something like that, yeah,” he mused.  Glancing over at her, he reached his hand out, running it lovingly over the marbled edges that bore her name.  Sighing softly, he murmured, “I did what I could for you, you know.  I kept my promise.”  And he had.  There had been quite the furor after Shepard’s passing.  The Alliance had wanted her to be buried with full military honors in the Alliance cemetery in Vancouver.  Kaidan, privy to Shepard’s wishes, had refused.  Instead, she’d been laid to rest in her favorite spot at the orchard.  No pomp or fuss, no military salute, just a simple ceremony with him and a few others who had truly known her.  

_I know you did, Kaidan.  You’ll probably never know just how much I appreciate that._

Kaidan lifted the back of a hand to cover his mouth as he yawned.  He was so tired these days.  Each day it seemed worse than the day before.  “Did I ever tell you how Wrex and Grunt wanted to pour ryncol over your grave?  Some sort of Tuchankan tradition, I guess.  Said it would soak through, that you’d be having a drink with them,” he added, his thoughts beginning to wander just a bit.  How long had it been now since the funeral?  Forty years?  Fifty?  He’d lost count now.  Many of the old friends who had come back then were now gone as well and those who remained, well ….

_You did tell me, but I don’t mind.  Wrex always was determined to get his way.  And Grunt?  He is just as hard headed._

He managed a short chuckle.  “They were both just as stubborn as you.”

_Why do you think I was adopted into the Urdnot clan?  Sure, I helped cure the genophage, but I think the real reason was I could go head to head with the krogan.  Literally._

Kaidan smiled.  “I heard about that, too,” he whispered.  Another yawn.  “So … tired today …,” he barely managed before his eyes fluttered closed.  A nap.  That’s what he needed ….  Just a little rest.  When he woke, he’d get up and return to the house ….

“Sleep, my love.”  The light touch of a hand at his shoulder had him looking up to find her standing there: healthy, whole, and smiling down at him.  She looked as she had that day they’d met back in 2183 aboard the SR1.  Kneeling beside him, she leaned over to kiss his forehead.  “You’ve earned your rest, Kaidan.”

“With you?” he dared hope, hand reaching up to run along her cheek and, surprisingly, feeling her beneath his fingertips.

Rising once more, Shepard linked her hand with his and pulled him to his feet until he was standing beside her.  It took him a moment to realize that he too had shed the years of wear and tear, his hair now dark once again, the wrinkles and lines of age now gone from his hands and face.  Sparing a glance over his shoulder, he saw his older self still seated against the tree, beside her as he always had always wanted to be.  A light tug on his hand now pulled his attention back to her, that vision blurring and fading as she led him away.  “Always,” she promised.  


End file.
